A Farewell
by CuriousNymph
Summary: Levi Ackerman has always wished he could change the past, but, as always, the present refuses to be kind.


A Farewell

He knelt down by the grave, the spring sunshine casting dusty sunbeams down to the surface, their golden glow almost pure, even in this sickly, forsaken world. It was only so long ago that he'd realized she'd died. That everyone he'd ever loved had died, and finally gone to the Great Beyond – a place he never liked to think about.

Pure and great as it may be, the people that went there never came back.

And they never really got to say goodbye, either.

The grass shifted beneath him as he leant, sitting down opposite the headstone. It was a simple thing, just a round stone sitting in the ground, no decoration or epitaph visible. He guessed there'd been too many bodies to account for – this one headstone was hardly the most important.

It was, to him, though.

He gazed down at the spray of flowers in his hand; the midnight blues and soft cloud whites and gentle lilacs were just like her. Clean. Fresh. Forever smiling. He could picture her clearly in his mind, her brown-golden eyes always so alight and warm. Her smile, never selfish or cruel – just free and happy. Her soft, strawberry-blonde hair short but pretty, the wind catching her fringe and the tails of the hair strands, whipping them up. Last spring, she's taken a walk with him down this path, amongst the trees and newly sprung flowers, her uniform exchanged for a simple, white lace dress, a ridiculously wide-brimmed, white straw 'picture hat' on her head and strappy sandals on her feet, looking happier than he ever remembered her. That had been one day to remember – a day very few of the soldiers ever had. He was the top of the ranks, and yet he had still managed to find time to go out on a walk. As he had walked, he'd thought it stupid and childish – he'd had mounds of paperwork to do. Why should he waste his time on a silly walk out in the garden?

Looking back, he wished fiercely that he'd taken her hand. And walked with her like he should have done.

He'd been irritable that day, and still she'd smiled and laughed and teased like it was fine.

She'd tolerated his stupid behaviour, and had loved his stoic expression, and had always cherished him as her leader.

The flash of her awkwardly broken neck, the crimson blood smearing her face and running into her soft, soft hair flashed in his mind.

He shook it away.

His hands began to shake, just recalling how tragic that day had been.

His whole squad. _His_ squad. He was supposed to be their leader, their protector.

He'd been too late. Too late for all of them.

Too late for her.

Closing his eyes a moment, he focussed on the blooms in his white-knuckled hand. There were purple and white violets, small and delicate; a flower he thought was called 'Ipheion', a pale blue spring bloom that was as light as air; lilacs, their sweet scent drifting up to his nose; the midnight shade of the Blue Anemones, wide petals and blue hue almost alien; the azure Columbines, drooping much like his bowed head; and lastly, the blue and lilac sweet pea flowers, again as gentle as her. He sniffed involuntarily, feeling stupid. No person was ever worth your tears, that's what he always said.

Of course, that was gone in an instant.

Lifting a hand, he fingered the velvety petals of the flowers, thinking hard. What had he done to deserve so much loss? She wasn't the last one, he knew that. He'd lost so many. So, so many. It hurt so much it was painless – he had no room in his heart for all of them, and yet, his heart _made_ room,

Again and again.

He could never forget them. Not ever.

Sighing heavily, he looked up at the headstone, breathing in deep.

"You know… you were a right brat at times, Petra,"

He sighed again, shaking his head.

"OK, you weren't. Not really. I was stupid. I get that. Your coffee was nice, I guess. I prefer tea, but I'm not going to argue with you. The coffee was nice. Thank you for the coffee."

He thought again.

"…It's hard, actually. I can't believe it. I'm waiting for you to laugh at me and say 'Silly!' –" he grimaced at his imitation – "But I know it's not coming. I'll never see you again. Or Eld. Or Gunther. Or that ridiculous bastard Oluo…"

"…Huh, you'd laugh at that."

"…Why aren't you laughing at that?"

He bowed his head, the onyx bangs of his hair falling over his eyes. He breathed out, resting the bouquet of flowers on the grave, but he didn't stand up.

"Your father said you loved me. Is that true? I'm not sure why – that was stupid, Petra. You always – were – stupid…" he breathed out shakily, trying to regain his composure.

"Dammit…" He gave a shudder, his shoulders curling in on themselves. He reached up a hand to twirl the ivory cravat around his neck, the black dress jacket on his shoulders feeling heavy.

"You loved these damn cravats." He said simply. There wasn't much more to say.

"Petra…" He looked up, staring at the engraved name on the headstone, the fancy writing looking very neat and tidy, when underneath the stone, Petra was just a mangled body.

He stopped thinking about it.

"I meant to say… you were my rock. You all were. I never said, and I should've done, and I'm sorry. But it's too late now. I can't say anything. Not a damn thing. It won't change. It won't ever change… I miss you."

His voice dipped to a whisper, voice cracking as he licked his bone-dry lips. He hadn't eaten in days.

"A little _too_ much, I think."

Levi tilted his head to the sky, aware of how calm this day was. Everything was peaceful. No titans. No blood. No 3DMG. It was like a fairy-tale, or at least what he imagined they were like. Blue, cloudless sky. Bright sunshine. Breezy. Green grass, waving in the spring wind. Birds chirping back at one another.

It was so unlike the horror of the Titan forest. Although inside the walls, this place…

It felt new.

Levi sighed again, dropping his head to the gravestone again.

"I have to go now. I'll come back – maybe. Depends if Shitty Glasses doesn't hold me back like her damn life depends on it. You know what she's like."

He shakily got to his feet, his long, slender fingers smoothing down his cravat.

"I'm sorry,"

Turning his back, he made a move to walk away, but something came to mind.

"Oh, and Petra? Look after the others for me, won't you? …You always were like a mother."

"…I…bye," he whispered, turning his head away.

As he walked away, the breeze swept past the grave of Petra Ral, the flowers of the blue bouquet fluttering helplessly.

of course, levi. anything for you, the wind whispered, a smile faintly audible on the breeze.

But he was long gone, mourning the only girl he could ever have trusted with his heart.


End file.
